Home and aground

Often when you're planing a passage home you keep an eye on the longer-term forecast for the days you hope to travel and watch in despair as the forecast changes from (say) NE3 with sunshine and flat seas to SW6-7 with rain, rough seas and poor visibility. Not this time. From the moment when it first appeared on the GFS 10-day forecast until the time that it happened, the wind was forecast to go N during Friday, drop in the afternoon and go a bit NE overnight, with seas moderating from just over a metre at midday Friday to about 0.3m by Saturday afternoon.


Thursday was a bit of a push to windward across the Markermeer. If we'd had more time or less far to go we could have sailed more. The wind was SW3-ish, just where we were going. We could have sailed almost to Lelystad, tacked and gone into the Ij, but instead it was on with Mr Volvo and Mr Tillerpilot once again with the crew generally dozing. We got back to Amsterdam Marina in the middle of the afternoon, and this time moored in the east basin, which is definitely choppier (and in fact a bit uncomfortable when there's a lot of barge traffic, although we were almost at the back of the basin) but has a better view. You also get more of the smells from the steak restaurant which was a mixed blessing as we weren't planning to go there. However, I did get another bath.

On Friday morning we had plenty of time for me to have a run past these rather nice houses, make a lasagne for Friday night and a big soup for Saturday, before heading off down the Nordzee Kanaal. The wind was showing no sign at all of going north and was on the nose most of the way, but very light. I suspect it's funnelled down the canal and most of it was apparent anyway. After a long wait at the lock, and then in the lock, we got to IJmuiden about 2pm and found the fuel berth, which I got us into extremely neatly as the space between the two moored ribs was only marginally longer than Kalessin. Then we tried to get fuel. The machine rejected my smile debit card (normally rejected by fuel dispensers), my Santander business debit card (which usually works) and my Smile credit card. Oh bugger. Then Anne tried her Monzo debit card, which is Mastercard rather than Visa (generally better news in the Netherlands) and it worked. It transpired from the warning texts I received that the system precharges a stonking €1250 which seems to trigger numerous fraud sensors. Anyway thank you Anne! (and Monzo).

Departure around 1830 saw the wind in the N as promised and the sea still a bit lumpier than I would have liked, which had a rather negative effect on Ben, unfortunately, especially as we were sailing for the first hour or so. We all had some lasagne and then everyone except me went to bed and the engine went on by about 8pm. I took the first watch until 2300. Fortunately our route this time was south of the anchored tankers which got in the way so much on the way out, and S of the Luchterduinen windfarm which was a very handy seamark. The air was remarkably warm and the sea continued to moderate. The moon came up over the Dutch coast, soaring up like a vast orange hot-air balloon.

Ben did the 2300 to 0200 watch, still feeling distinctly queasy, I did 0200 to 0500, Ben got dawn and breakfast and then slept almost to midday. Sam had refused to be wedged behind the saloon table in the port bunk, so we got him half-sitting, half-lying sideways across the bunk, propped on a folded duvet, which meant he could lie back to sleep and sit up to eat or take notice. It worked quite well on starboard tack but might not haven been so good if he had been tipped the other way. It also meant there was a vacant area of port bunk next to him just big enough for me to curl up in like a dormouse, and to my surprise I slept soundly for at least two hours on each of my off watches, although I woke with cramp from being curled up. After my second dormouse effort the elastic of my thermal leggings was digging in so ferociously that I clipped it with a pair of scissors. Time for a new pair of leggings...

The sea got calmer and bluer until it was positively hot. We had chosen the calmest possible day for our crossing but I did feel I should explain to Anne that the North Sea is not normally like this.

New EA1 windfarm under construction

Finally it was time to turn into both wind and tide to turn down the Sledway. On previous crossings we have been lucky to get both wind and tide right for a gallop down the Sledway. This time the tide was against us and as we passed north of the Greater Gabbard windfarm we were down to less than 4kt over the ground, despite boosting the engine revs to 2300, so I expected a painful crawl home. But in fact the wind direction and strength were perfect to make the most of motorsailing, where we were filling the sails with our own apparent wind, and we managed a respectable 5 to 5.5kt down to what used to be Wadgate Ledge, and just now seems to be Ledge beacon.

By the time we reached SYH it was LW. As it was a day before springs and the lowest water was forecast as 0.5m above chart datum I expected the channel to be narrow, but water levels to be ok. In fact we touched bottom on the approach to the safe water mark, and as we turned into the marina we saw a yacht clearly aground in the fairway. I thought I could creep round him on the inside, but oh no, there is definitely a bump there. We got off, crept into a handy spare berth, and had a dinner of reheated lasagne and soup which fortunately was all ready to go. We did enjoy a gorgeous sunset and with the very very last of the light finally got into our home berth around 2030. Time for that well-earned drink.

The yacht behind us draws 6ft and was well and truly aground

Wet and dry

 

Sam and I were last in Enkhuizen in 2011, when we left the boat in the Buyshaven for a few weeks while Ben did his A-levels. Before that we were here with Ben in 2009 when we visited the Zuider Zee museum. We thought it was time for another visit to the museum especially as it is completely new to Anne, so opted to moor in the Compagnieshaven which is a vast marina next to the museum. 

We had a very gentle passage from Hoorn with Anne helming for the first time as we sailed very slowly and then motored a bit faster. Coming into the marina was a bit confusing as there is a sign for a welcome pontoon, but once tied to it we could see it said “Welcome pontoon in 400m”. Fortunately as we arrived at the actual welcome pontoon we were met by someone who helpfully directed us to berth F1 which has an alongside jetty. We got in neatly, tied up and then realised we were in F27, ie the other side of the jetty from where we should have been. Oh well, third time lucky. 

Fortunately I asked the harbour master about accessible showers, as there is one but it has its own entrance with a keycard, and it turned out to be locked anyway. In the late afternoon we got Sam in and all was well, other than the fact that the floor was covered in dead insects - perhaps not cleaned that often. (Or indeed used that often).

In the evening I walked around the many moorings of Enkhuizen feeling guilty that we’d gone for the huge and slightly soulless marina. The town moorings (below) were rafted three deep and the Buyshaven had almost no moorings alongside a jetty, so I felt better about our choice. 

On Tuesday, a day with occasional drizzle and almost no wind, we headed off to the museum at the crack of 11am, and I think we all had a rather splendid time enjoying the reconstructed buildings and authentic crafts. 

Camilla as an apothecary “gaper”

Lovely baskets

The lime kilns were in use in their original location until 1976

Ben enjoying the privies in 2009

Not much has changed 10 years later

Wednesday saw winds up to F6 and pretty much non-stop rain so we have had a day of catching up, supermarket shopping etc. Why doesn’t Albert Heijn take normal UK debit cards? We had mussels on board which at least means we have kept up with our tradition of what we eat in the Netherlands. (Ben had chicken).

If all goes to plan it will be back to Amsterdam tomorrow (Thursday) night, and on Friday a pootle to IJmuiden to fill up with fuel and make an early evening departure across the North Sea. 

Golden Hoorn

Our original plan for this trip was to pootle gently around the IJsselmeer. Plan B was to take the standing mast route south through Haarlem and make a shorter North Sea crossing from the Roompot or Breskens. During the windy few days we were in Amsterdam I changed my mind on which was better several times a day. But by Saturday the weather was looking better, and the long-term forecast for the following weekend was giving northerlies, in which case a crossing from further north would be better. 

So it looked like Plan A at last, and with all the delightful ports of the Markermeer and IJsselmeer to choose from, we decided on Hoorn, HQ of the Dutch East Indies Company in the Golden Age, which we had visited briefly in 2009. We picked our way through rain showers and out through the Oranjesluisen, sailing briefly before turning into the wind as we headed to Hoorn. We forgot to look out for enormous mats of floating weed, which are a menace in this part of the Markermeer, but didn’t encounter any. 

Normally we avoid town quays where you tend to raft three deep, but I had a good feeling about this one so we headed for the Binnenhaven. And indeed there was the perfect mooring under the trees, really easy to get Sam on and off, with electricity and even water, once we’d joined two hoses together. No need to raft either. 

Admittedly the bathroom facilities were limited with no accessible showers, but we did have a pretty good view. 

On Saturday evening we enjoyed kibbeling and chips from the little cafe at the end of the quay, on Sunday morning I went for a very nice run, and on Sunday afternoon Sam and I enjoyed the craft market, Dutch hippie guitarists and people walking the greasy pole.

More Amsterdam

I woke up on Wednesday determined to check the VHF connections before calling in the professionals. Fortunately Ben insisted on taking over before I got too far. In due course we phoned Phil Munslow, who has installed our AIS and many other electrical items over the years, who made a number of useful suggestions, and Ollie Ballum of Seapower who did the electrical work on the engine and (I thought) installed the tiller pilot, who told us he had never seen the AIS splitter and was rather unhelpful. 

In due course we found the AIS splitter right next to the tiller pilot actuation unit. There was a coaxial plug plugged into it but the cable had completely parted company with the plug. Surely not a complete coincidence that the cable fell out just when another item was installed three inches away. Ollie assured me that (a) a different engineer had installed the actuator unit and he was normally very careful, and (b) the cable must have been loose to fall out. That may be true but coax connections notoriously degrade over time and I think it should have been checked. 

Ben, Anne and I went for a walk to a DIY store to buy a soldering iron. On the way back we passed a promising-looking outdoor goods store, and as we went in Ben said “I’ve been here before.” Indeed he had, the store was Rien de Wolf and we walked there from the Sixhaven in 2009 to buy a waterproof jacket for Ben and a Wateralmanak. This time we found a better soldering iron, a continental to UK adaptor so we could plug it into our 240v system, a cable for Ben’s camera battery charger and a spare VHF coax connector. Brilliant. 

It took most of the rest of the day to finish and check the repairs, and get the headlining back in place to Ben’s satisfaction. I took Sam for a shower in the impressive accessible facilities via our equally impressive wide pontoon. . 

Friday looked just as windy as Thursday had been (F6-7) so we hired an Uber to take us to the Rijksmuseum where we spent four hours or so. Not a cheap day out - €60 admission for three of us (Sam was free), plus €40 for a soup and sandwich lunch - but a fantastic immersion in culture. My favourite picture was the portrait of Sir Thomas Gresham by Anthonis Mor, court painter to the king of Spain. 

We walked back to the boat, which was knackering but worthwhile, and after supper I enjoyed the very best feature offered by Marina Amsterdam, something I have longed for but never found in any other marina:

...yes, a bath, with a view over Amsterdam and a window which can be made opaque at the push of a button. Fabulous. 

Marina Amsterdam

On previous stays in Amsterdam we have been to the Sixhaven. I believe it’s not quite as jam packed as it used to be but suspected it might not be very accessible for Sam. So we chose the relatively new Marina Amsterdam who have done us proud, with a berth alongside a huge pontoon which is also not the main walkway. 

We spent a day in  IJmuiden recovering from the crossing, which was probably sensible although apart from the beach there’s not much on offer. On Tuesday we left in a relatively relaxed way as even at the age of 26 Ben is not keen on early rising. The Kleine Sluis was fine but slow. 

Then we sailed slowly up the Nordzee kanal in pleasant sunshine, arriving at the marina in time to get the ferry to Centraal Station, walk gently westward through the city enjoying the canals and the appelgebaak,calling at a supermarket to stock up with basics, and then getting the other ferry back to NDSM. Sam was thrilled to spend time in the city, the sun shone and it all worked very well.

Sadly today has been less lovely with rain starting around 10am and continuing most of the day. I had a good 5km jog before it started but otherwise spent the day getting the laundry done, trying to work out what’s wrong with the VHF and catching up with this blog. 

Tomorrow’s forecast looks windy and wet again although it was a lovely peaceful evening. Our incredibly helpful HLR has suggested some options for people who could look at the VHF so tomorrow we need to contact them, reappraise the weather and decide what to do next. 

Across the North Sea

So at 6am on Sunday we headed out to sea. What can I say? It was a very boring and not very comfortable passage. The forecast was west to northwest winds, but there was no north in the wind at all (although the waves were coming from the NW), and as our course was pretty much due east, we were in constant danger of gybing. So for reasons of safety and comfort for Sam and Anne, we did the whole thing under jib and engine, which was not what I expected.

Initially of course we were in the lee of the English coast, which at least gave us some time to get used to being at sea. After that, on the Kalessin bumpiness scale, it probably rated third after Delfzijl to Cuxhaven in 2011, which was a beam reach, and SYH to Oostende in 2015 which was a close reach. The new tiller pilot did a sterling job on this most difficult point of sailing. I can't say that any of the crew really had a very good time, although thank goodness the sun shone for most of the passage and it was pretty warm.

Once we got offshore we established what I had already feared, that the range of the fixed VHF was much shorter than it should be and we heard almost no radio traffic. AIS, which uses the same aerial, was showing vessels only up to about two miles away. So I suspect there is damage to the aerial cable somewhere between head height and the masthead. Thank god for the relatively new and robust iCOM handheld VHF, but it only works over a range of 1-2 miles. Fortunately the North Sea is full of ships, windfarms, oil and gas rigs etc so if something had gone wrong hopefully someone would have heard us.

At about 5pm an enormous black cloud could be seen looming up behind us with a great deal of rain attached to the bottom. Ben and I dressed in our waterproofs to greet it and reefed the jib. According to the wind instrument we saw a maximum apparent wind of 25kt which would equate to at least 30kt true. Apart from that mostly we saw 6-10kt apparent and our speeds were between 4.5 and 6kt. And we did get a very nice rainbow at the end of it.

The worst bit was after dark (around 8pm) when we were tired and just wanted to arrive. Our route took us along the edge of an anchorage where we kept having to dodge huge tankers in the dark. We couldn't go further south because there is a windfarm in the way (Luchterduinen) and we were just south of the main IJmuiden channel. I went below to rest but every time I dozed off Sam woke me because he needed something, which did nothing for my temper. Fortunately around 11pm Ben (who slept a fair bit during the day) took charge, sent me below properly and I slept for a bit while he hand steered to dodge the last of the tankers. We tied up on the reception pontoon at Seaport Marina IJmuiden just after 1am (BST) and it wasn't until we turned into the wind to moor up that I realised how strong it had been all along.

Ben being masterful in Sam's cavernous oilies